


MacGyver Season 4

by Kerkerian



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jack Dalton fix-it, Missing Scenes, Season/Series 04, Some Fluff, Whump, divergence from canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25333552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerkerian/pseuds/Kerkerian
Summary: A series of missing scenes and an attempt at fixing it.
Comments: 74
Kudos: 141





	1. Episode 1: Fire + Ashes + Legacy = Phoenix

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own MacGyver.
> 
> I was finally able to watch the first episode of the fourth season, and there was so much going on that it kept preoccupying me. Knowing me, it'll keep happening as the episodes are going to be released one by one (duh...), so this will be updated regularly.  
> Since I have only seen this one so far, it's very likely that it's differing from canon somewhat. I also have no idea what happened to Leanna and if Bozer is actually still together with her...

Matty and Bozer sag with relief once they hear that Mac is safe and the torpedo has been stopped.

“We still got it,” Bozer whoops, jumping to his feet and punching the air a few times.

Later, once the initial excitement has died down somewhat, Russ asks them to meet them at their old HQ, which he apparently has bought a few months ago.

Matty feels queasy with anticipation; she always falls on her feet, she's never been out of work, but the truth is that she misses the Phoenix, misses being an agent. Sod Attila the Hun. If anyone's getting to be a Hun, it had better be her.

Desi, Riley, Matty and Bozer accompany Mac back to his house once they have discussed how to proceed; Russ said he still had a few things to do, and while they are all grateful that he saved Mac's life- well, strictly speaking, it was Mac himself once again by building that harness- they feel like they could do with some privacy, only their old team, to wrap their heads around everything that's happened.

While Mac showers off the diaper goo, Bozer goes to get a fire going in the pit, Matty and Desi order some food and Riley tries to find five clean plates. Apparently, the past months have been harder on Mac than he let on; she's never seen the house like this. It's a mess, and there are far too many empty beer bottles in the recycling bin. The bike is nowhere to be seen, the blinds on most windows are closed, and there's an overall air of neglect.

She feels a little guilty as she looks around now; they really haven't heard much of each other lately. It's a bit disconcerting, to say the least, that they let it happen; she always thought that they'd stick together no matter what.

Mac feels exhilarated. He's not been this lighthearted since... well, for about eighteen months now. Even while Desi and he were together, there was always that slight pang of regret about how things turned out with the Phoenix.

Between Desi and him it was good, for a while, but once their initial physical attraction had lessened and they stopped tearing each other's clothes off at every opportunity, it turned out that they didn't have as much in common as they thought.

They didn't have the same easy connection as Mac and Bozer, or Mac and Riley. Sometimes, their conversations were downright stilted. And it made spending time with each other a task after a while rather than something enjoyable. They felt strained, then annoyed, and things got hurtful. So they ended it, or rather, Mac ended it. He didn't see the point in drawing it out unnecessarily, and while Desi agreed, deep down, it was difficult nevertheless.

After that, things took a turn for the worse. The teaching job wasn't fulfilling, because the students didn't seem overly eager to learn; they mainly cared about getting the necessary credits, or so it seemed. There was no spark. Mac sometimes thought that maybe he should have made more of an effort himself, should have tried to find a position at a more renowned university; leaving L.A. didn't seem an option however, though Mac couldn't even say why.

He didn't have much contact with his dad, and he rarely saw his friends. They were all busy rearranging their life, and Bozer actually threw himself into working on a proper movie. Since he had also moved in with Leanna in the meantime, the void that was suddenly filling out Mac's life was huge and all-encompassing. With Jack still gone, his dad having disappointed him once again (and absolutely unforgivably this time) and his one true purpose practically nullified, he hadn't only lost his job, he'd lost his family and reason to get up in the mornings, at least that's what it felt like.

For a while, he made more of an effort nevertheless, too stubborn to be defeated yet. He made himself breakfast every day, he tidied up, he worked out a lot. After a while though, it became dull, and Mac didn't see why he was doing all of that. So he became sloppy, got up too late, stopped tidying up, stopped eating regularly.

When he came home, he sat down with a beer instead of tinkering with his bike or other projects, and he often rather passed out on the couch instead of sleeping in his bed. He knew that this was the beginning of a downwards spiral, and he kept wondering, if he wasn't careful, what Jack would say if he were here.

“You're not,” he sometimes told his friend, though he wasn't there to hear it. “So stop bugging me.”

It was one more thing he locked away, deep down, where all the hurt was stored. It wasn't good either, which he was aware of, but he felt so tired- he had made an effort, hadn't he, by working to save lives, by putting his own life at risk. Apparently, it hadn't been enough, and fate had kept throwing things at him which ultimately had rendered him alone, miserable and without perspective. It seemed that he just wasn't supposed to be happy, or with people he loved, and who loved him, not in the long run. Meaning it didn't matter if he took care of himself or not.

So he focused on getting to work and trying to get some knowledge into the young people who attended his classes, because he just couldn't not at least try. He kept up a facade- he dressed properly and shaved every day, keeping up a neat appearance. Nobody had to know what his home life looked like, after all. He didn't date anyway.

The moment he comes out onto the deck, his hair still damp, his friends stop talking, so he can easily guess what the topic has been.

“Don't mind me,” he says lightly.

The others exchange a look, then Bozer clears his throat: “We just thought... it seems we've all been too caught up with our own stuff,” he says cautiously.

Mac sits down; he knows what Bozer is referring to, of course, and his first instinct is to tell them that he doesn't need anyone looking after him. Which would be a colossal untruth however: one look around is proof of that.

“Sorry about the mess,” he offers somewhat lamely instead. “I haven't been...” His voice peters out, since he doesn't have the faintest idea how to end the sentence.

“Sounds about right,” Riley says after a few seconds, effectively changing the mood from concerned to amused, since the others can't but laugh. Mac laughs too: it's the genuine article, and it feels great.

“Seems Russ came just in time,” Matty afterwards says quietly, raising her bottle.

Mac, who refrains from drinking a beer but got a can of soda instead, instantly agrees with her.

When the others say their goodbyes much later, it's not Desi who lingers, which Mac is secretly relieved about, but Riley.

“Seriously, Mac,” she says, her eyes roaming over his face. “Give me call next time you're in a funk.” She motions towards the kitchen. “This isn't you.”

Mac sighs: “It was, for a while.” He refrains from correcting her: _funk_ doesn't even begin to describe it. But Riley's seen the bottles and, well, the rest, so she's probably only being tactful.

“I'm sorry we drifted apart,” Riley now murmurs. “I'd never have thought...” The truth is that she was jealous of Desi at first, and later, it was just easier to keep her distance.

“Me neither.” Mac smiles at her, and his expression is so full of affection and so kind that Riley feels herself tearing up. Without warning, she throws her arms around him and pulls him close, holding on tightly and trembling, and Mac brings up his own arms and hugs her back. Which is doing his bruised soul a lot of good.

“I missed you,” she mutters into his shirt, a while later. “Let's never be this stupid again, okay?”

“Okay.” Mac pushes his nose into the fabric of her jacket and closes his eyes for a moment. “I missed you too.”

When they finally let go, minutes later, they both feel calmer. They end up lying side by side on Mac's bed, talking.

“You gonna be okay working with Desi again?” Riley asks.

“We're adults,” Mac replies. “I hope.” He pauses. “We both know that it wasn't meant to be. Remember how we talked about her, back when we worked with Maria and Cody, which was our first mission with her?”

“Yeah?”

“You were impressed by her skills and preparedness. I said that she's not the warmest of persons.” He sighs. “Well... she can be. She can be very sweet and considerate. And she's good at what she does, can't deny it. But she's not... so easily affectionate. I sometimes find that difficult.”

Riley considers this: “I know what you mean,” she murmurs. “And even though it's unfair to say it- she's not Jack, right?”

“Right.” Mac is silent for a while. “I wonder where he is,” he then mutters softly. “If he's okay.”

Riley bites her lip. “He is,” she eventually says in an undertone. “He's in Turkey, and I think he's okay, from the looks of it.”

Mac turns his head towards her: “You've been keeping tabs on him?”

Riley shrugs: “After the Phoenix was dissolved, I thought why the hell not?”

A small smile spreads on Mac's face: “I guess I shouldn't be surprised.”

Riley looks smug: “I guess not.”

“Riles,” Mac mutters after a while. “I'm glad you're here.”

Instead of a reply, Riley just reaches for his hand.

In the early hours of the morning, after Riley has fallen asleep, Mac gets up and opens his laptop. He's got to tender a resignation, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's one James Bond reference in this one, maybe you've noticed it. =)


	2. Episode 2: Red Cell + Quantum + Cold + Committed

MacGyver isn't naïve. He knows that they can't expect things to exactly get back to how they were, even with the Phoenix up and running again.

What's strange is how, even though the team per se is still working well together (not counting Desi's and his issues, which really shouldn't be coming up during a mission, since it's unprofessional and annoying), they are still a bit estranged from one another, or so it seems. After completing their first op after regrouping, and such a risky one at that, he'd have thought everyone would be feeling victorious enough to want to let the day peter out on his deck, as usual.

What he hasn't anticipated is for everyone apparently having other priorities. Admittedly, the notion that there's an unknown organization in the background which apparently is shaping up to present a formidable adversary is weighing on their minds, but still- before, they'd have gone to his house for a few beers and some pizza, and most importantly- the shared exhilaration that came with having succeeded.

But now, not even Bozer is going to be there; he had taken it remarkably well when Leanna had put her job first and accepted the deep cover op, despite knowing how potentially life-altering those were. Despite Ethan Reigns.

Once Leanna was gone, Bozer hadn't moved back in either; well. Mac couldn't blame him after months of silence; he had been too preoccupied with his own problems after all.

Since Mac doesn't feel like going home alone, he makes his way down to the lab instead. Sparky comes to life as he enters the sparsely lit rooms: “MacGyver! What a pleasant surprise.”

“Is it?” Mac looks around. There's no one else. Whoever has been hired or re-hired at this point is with their families, presumably. A feeling of loss settles on Mac's shoulders like a cloak.

“At this time of night, the staff usually has left,” Sparky says accordingly. “Unless an urgent matter requires their attention, of course.”

Mac nods, forbidding himself to think of Jack. “Care for a game of chess?”

Sparky briefly considers this: “I do find the rules of that particular game fascinating,” he then replies affirmatively. So Mac gets out the board and sets up the pieces; he's always reassured by the inherent logic and order of it. No matter how unpredictable the invididual game turns out, there's no chaos, no truly unforeseen outcome. The game just can't derail in the way life can.

Later, Mac joins Russ Taylor in the war room. He's not family yet, but he's there, in flesh and blood. He's given them their purpose back, and he's making an effort. So, in acccordance with Mac's principle only to be working for people he trusts, Russ is the next best thing.

Desi takes her time showering and getting ready for bed. She's still strangely wired, and much as she hates to admit it, it's got a lot more to do with her brief stint in the boot of Russ' car with Mac than the rest of the op. She should have a better grip on herself, but being with him and keeping her cool is hard enough. Being so close to him was torture. And of course, she never minded his body spray, on the contrary: the scent is lovely. In that, it's also essentially Mac (and how typcial is it of him to choose something with such a soppy name?), which she just can't bear yet. So she lashed out, which is the easiest way to hide her actual emotions sometimes, even though it makes her feel like a traitor.

She still misses Mac, more so than she thought possible, and she keeps finding excuses for him, which began even before her anger abated. They undeniably had some bad timing- starting a relationship in a time of emotional upheaval, because much as she'd like to deny it, the dissolution of the Phoenix did a real number on all of them, probably wasn't their best of ideas. Also, she had had feelings for Mac pretty much from the start, which were all pent-up- maybe her expectations of him were too high, plain and simple.

She had imagined Mac to be the perfect gentleman, which he was, in a way. But he was also human, and he wasn't doing too well after everything that happened. For him, it wasn't only losing his occupation, it was losing his dad all over again. And maybe, if she is brutally honest with herself, she wasn't the person he needed right then, didn't have the required skill set to be there for him. Since she hadn't expected his pain to be so deep-seated, she felt inadequate to be his rock, especially when they were still only getting to know each other. So yeah, getting together was a disaster waiting to happen.

Riley listens to Aubrey's quiet snores and tries to let it lull her to sleep. Instead, her thoughts are with her team, with the op, with the riddles they have uncovered, and with Mac. She feels slightly guilty for lying to him about her new relationship.

She wanted to tell him, that night at his house, but it didn't seem like the right moment, not when he seemed so desolate, when things were only just beginning to look up again. Matty isn't going to rat her out, but knowing that she knows is enough to make Riley want to come clean with the others too, and she isn't sure how to do so. It feels like they're still on thin ice and are only slowly clawing their way back to the shore. Mac seems to be doing better by now, but he's still got an air of fragility about him she's concerned about. When they set out to steal the chip for Accosta, Mac looked like he hadn't slept; his eyes were red-rimmed, and with the shorter hair, he always appears younger. More vulnerable.

Riley sighs: the least she wants is for him to get hurt any further, but she also has to think about herself. Breaking up with Billy was hard enough, and shortly after that, she lost the Phoenix on top of it. Contrary to what Mac had said after the initial breakup with Billy, he and the others weren't there for her then, because they were lost as well after everything that happened.

Instead, her mum and even Elwood tried to help her deal with it, and life went on, sort of. But Aubrey was like a fresh breeze; meeting him made her want to look forward again for the first time in months, allowed her to think about the future and not be intimidated by it. Made getting up in the mornings easy again.

When Mac finally makes it home, long after midnight, he ambles through the house aimlessly for the while, picking things up and setting them down again; it's tidier now, and he's thrown out a lot of stuff too. It's still empty though, and while Mac could never sell it, simply because his grandpa designed and built it himself, he feels like he could leave again, find somewhere else; the house always felt like a safe haven, but as it turned out, it doesn't matter, really, because no matter what he does, he survives, whether he wants to or not. Whether he's doing okay or not.

Working properly again felt good, and Russ seems capable enough. Also, he really seems to care about things.

And yet. If this is the new normal, Mac isn't sure how much he's going to like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For me, the most crucial moment in this episode is when Riley also declines spending the evening with Mac after their op. His expression right then and his brave but forlorn little smile broke my heart...


	3. Episode 3: Kid + Plane + Cable + Truck

It takes a while until the adrenaline ebbs away this time. Until the very last moment, Mac wasn't sure if the plan was going to work, if the magnetic pull was going to be strong enough to hold the plane on the truck, if he had factored the wind and gravitational forces in correctly. His hands were shaking while he connected the wires, because he was hyper aware of the fact that there were innocent lives at stake, not only Desi's and his own. Asher and his dad hadn't signed on for this, after all.

Mac knew that it was irrational to think so: if it weren't for his team, the Cessna would simply have crashed at one point, which would have been worse. And yet. Now that they had commandeered the situation, they were responsible. There was no shrugging it off in case their plan went wrong. And since all else had failed, it was coming down to _his_ plan. If _his_ plan failed.

So yeah. He only stops trembling once they're at the hospital and know that Asher's dad and Bozer are going to be fine.

Later, they all meet at Mac's place at last. It's a little awkward at first, with Russ obviously feeling the need to make conversation, and Desi's words still ringing in his ears. They get along fine, but it seems as if they're not even scratching the surface, making mostly small talk, and their easy camaraderie is not helping Mac to wind down as usual.

Once more, he doesn't get much sleep that night, since he keeps thinking about his dad. James MacGyver is probably the biggest riddle of all. Mac felt so stupid and dismayed after what he had learned about his role in the death of Elliot Mason's son and which decision his own dad made that day. It had been difficult for Mac to overcome his resentment enough so that James and he could start over, the most difficult thing he'd ever had to do. He had been relieved and even a little happy when things had gone well, and he realized how much he had missed his dad. Which was why, after everything that happened, he felt even more betrayed and wounded than before when he heard that James had put Mac's life before that of another person. Desi had a point though: his dad's sick, probably dying, and once he's gone, it'll be too late.

Too late for what exactly, Mac wonders, staring at the shadows on the ceiling. Even if they'll make amends, it won't be as it was before, for a while. They won't have enough time, and Mac, much as he'd like to deny it, doesn't think he can take yet another disappointment, more heartbreak.

He's stopped drinking so much, and he's doing better now that he's back at work. But it still feels like a momentary reprieve, and it's hard work to make the others think he's fine when deep down, he's not. The world has taken on a more familiar shape again, but its edges aren't clearly defined yet, easily able to unhinge him if he's not careful.

What's more: it may seem as though Desi and he have buried the hatchet, but that's utopian at best: there are triggers everywhere, it won't have been the last time that they started to bicker in the middle of an op. Rationally, Mac knows that the attraction is physical at the most, that one can't unhear what the other person said in the heat of an argument, but it's still not going to prevent him from making a remark the next time.

Today only proved once again that they work together really well, which is undeniable, but once more, it has become clear that being someone's overwatch (Mac prefers to avoid the term 'bodyguard' if he can help it) is one thing; having someone's back no matter what is another. Desi will do everything in her power to keep Mac safe, but apart from that, it's not nearly the same as having Jack watching his six. With Desi on the job, Mac feels safe and in competent hands. With Jack, feeling safe and secure always assumed a different quality. Like he was all that mattered. And while that could be annoying at times, it was what he needed, if he is honest with himself.

Therefore, Mac is convinced that he'd have been able to handle things better if Jack had still been there. This notion is one of the reasons why he tries not to think of his partner most of the time. He even met Riley at Jack's favourite pizza-and-skeeball place, and they managed to avoid talking about him at all and pretend that there was no large elephant in the room (one that was wearing a Metallica t-shirt and a faux-hawk). Mac's performance at skeeball however has never been so under par, and he still has absolutely no idea what the pizza tasted like.

Around three in the morning, Mac is still wide awake, despite a bone-deep exhaustion that has settled in his body, courtesy of the previous day's events. But his reeling mind has reached a point of no return now, so it's futile to stay in bed. Especially when an idea has taken hold and he can't seem to shake it like he did numerous other times.

He gets up and wanders around the house for a while, telling himself not to be silly, but to no avail. With a sudden resolve, he returns to his room where he gets dressed, his heart beating like a drum all of a sudden. He takes the car keys and leaves the house, trembling with adrenaline.

Jack's apartment is unchanged. He's keeping the lease because he doesn't know when he'll be back, and it's something that's been giving Mac hope. But now Jack is already gone for more than two years, and it's getting harder to believe he'll be back at all. Missing him has become a constant presence in the back of Mac's mind, like a chronic pain or tinnitus, subtle but unrelenting.

He closes the door behind him and disables the alarm, then he pauses. He can almost pretend that the last two years didn't happen, that he'll find Jack in his bed, fast asleep. He'll be confused upon waking up, confused and alarmed and worried something happened to Mac. Once he'll realize everything's okay, that Mac just needed company, his initial tension will seep away, and he'll grouse for a moment (“Damn it, kid, do you have any idea what time it is?”), but then his expression will soften into something sympathetic, and he'll tell Mac to just find a few sheets in the closet and get comfortable on the couch, and then he'll go back to sleep. And in the morning, Mac will wake up with the scent of coffee in the air, and the whole long and unconquerable night will fade into memory.

Almost. He squeezes his suddenly burning eyes closed until the sensation fades, then, with unsteady steps, he makes his way over to Jack's bedroom, where he crawls onto the bare mattress and just sinks into whichever comfort Jack's still faintly lingering scent has to offer.

On the following morning, when his alarm goes off, Mac feels hollowed out even before he opens his eyes and realizes where he is. He turns onto his back with a groan: for two years, he has managed to avoid this. Rather grabbed yet another beer instead of allowing himself to give in.

At least he slept some, which can be counted as a win, but Jack still isn't here. Mac gets up, running a hand through his hair, and meets his gaze in the mirror above the chest of drawers. He barely recognizes himself, bleary-eyed and rumpled and just... off.

_This still isn't you, hoss_. Jack's voice sounds as loud and clear through his mind as if were standing right next to him.

“I know.” Mac presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. He needs to get a grip on himself, remember who he was two years ago. Buck up and make things right, because that's what he does: it's something of a compulsion. It's why he ended up as an EOD tech, and later, a secret agent. He doesn't always have to like it, or so he tells himself, but he's got to at least try.

If Jack comes back- _when_ he comes back, he'll only be appalled otherwise, and Mac doesn't want him to worry.

“I'll get there,” he promises.

_Course you are_. Jack's tone is confident. _You've never been one for giving up, kiddo_. _Stubborn as a mule_.

Despite himself, the corners of Mac's mouth quirk up a little.

_See_? Jack sounds proud. _That's my boy. Small steps, Mac. I'm not gonna say 'best foot forward' 'cause I know you hate that expression, but... that's what it'll boil down to._

On some days, Mac can't handle it when other people are more confident in his abilities than he is himself, but right now, it's what he needed to hear. A nudge in the right direction.

He feels almost relieved, and it's easier to look himself in the eyes now that he's sorted it out in his head, and he knows what the first step will be.

Then it hits him, and he frowns; he's sold the leather jacket he used to wear because it belonged to his dad once. Jack always teased him about his clothes, but he often said that the jacket suited him and also couldn't do any wrong in Dalton's book because it was sturdy and had often kept him from harm. After James' confession, it was the first thing that he got rid of, however. He also sold the jeep, coming to think of it, since his dad had scribbled on the dashboard and Mac secretly thought it was kind of cute and something he himself would have done, so he didn't remove it. Later though, he didn't want any reminder of his father, so the jeep had to go.

Well. He can't get the car back, but maybe he'll be lucky at the pawn shop. He nods at nothing in particular, taking a deep breath: “Thanks, Jack.”

_Anytime, kiddo_.

With one last look around and feeling somewhat fortified, Mac leaves his partner's apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really not sure that I like the fourth season so far... things seem really off, and I'm not convinced Mac's in a good place. Also, I don't buy the whole romance between Desi and him, there's absolutely no spark (and if you ask me, there wasn't any before, when they hinted at a possible love interest between the two in season 3).  
> And yeah, Jack. For how long is he supposed to be hunting Kovac? This is just getting ridiculous...


	4. Episode 4: Windmill + Acetone + Celluloid + Firing Pin

Mac's fingers are restless. He hasn't touched a paper clip in months, and he's tidied away most of the bits and pieces he habitually had lying around because they're just so _useful_. How other people organize their households without the odd piece of filament or a few Lego bricks is beyond him.

It means, of course, that he can't just grab something, as he used to do, and change it into an entirely new shape while he is thinking about whatever is preoccupying him. Often, the outcome complimented his thought process, which he found amusing at times, or even helpful.

They've come home from Europe in the middle of the night, but Mac didn't go straight to bed as he normally would have done; he felt restless, despite a bone-deep fatigue that he could feel pressing behind his eyes, therefore he went in search of the box of paper clips he once got as a Christmas gift from Matty. He knew he still had it somewhere, and sure enough, he found it in a drawer in his room. He weighed it in his hand for a while, then he emptied it onto the kitchen counter. Stared at what suddenly looked like a challenge. And turned away to go shower first.

And now, under the warm spray, his exhaustion is catching up with him. He leans against the wall, closes his burning eyes and just lets the water soothe his sore, aching muscles; after the day they've had, his whole body feels like one giant bruise. It rankles a little that he wouldn't have been able to disarm the bomb this time, simply because its mechanisms, while outdated, were too unfamiliar. Well, if he had had enough time and some peace and quiet, he'd probably have figured it out. As it is, he's going to look at the material Russ and Bozer compiled; it's always better to be prepared.

Tiredly, he turns off the water and dries himself off. His throat is dry, courtesy of the dust and the smoke; in retrospect, they really should have worn some protective gear, Mac thinks as he slips into his sleepwear.

Once he's dressed, he pads back into the kitchen, takes some orange juice out of the fridge and empties about half the container in one go before he puts it back and turns towards the counter, contemplating the paper clips: back during the dark times, as he's now begun to call the Phoenix hiatus in private, he woke up one morning with a monster of a hangover and no immediate recollection of the night before; judging from the empty whisky bottle and the fact that he apparently had passed out on the kitchen floor at one point, it had been bad. He vividly remembers how he got to his feet, nauseous and feeling battered, and found the kitchen island full of former paper clips bent into letters, haphazardly arranged into words:

J A C K, they read. C O M E B A C K W O R L D S T O P P E D M A K I N G S E N S E.

He stood there swaying and feeling increasingly sick, staring at the words until his body convulsed sideways and he threw up.

Subsequently, he called in sick and spent the rest of the day in bed. On the following morning, he cleaned the kitchen and threw away the letters and all the remaining paper clips, then he crawled back into bed, where he stayed for the next three days, hiding from himself, mostly.

He's doing better now, and he assumes that Jack would approve. _Small steps_.

Hesitantly, he reaches for one of the paper clips, unbends it. Usually, he doesn't have to think about it; it's not a task, rather a means to help him think and focus, or an expression of his subconscious. Now however, he draws a complete blank. His fingers don't know what to do next. So he puts the piece of steel wire down, feeling strangely defeated, and goes to bed.

His dreams are contorted that night, full of imagery that doesn't make any sense, and when he wakes up in the early morning, he is glad to have escaped. He thinks of Riley and knows that some of this has been about her. She wasn't wrong when she summarized their current relationship as being colleagues rather than friends, despite their mutual backpedalling later, and it's weighing on Mac. Despite their promises after the resurrection of the Phoenix, they haven't exactly made an effort to keep in touch outside of work, not like it used to be. And now he knows why, and it makes sense that Riley wants to be with her boyfriend during her time off.

Still, it's disappointing. He's not jealous that she found someone, and he feels a little embarrassed about telling her how he doesn't like to be alone; he didn't mean to whine. Most of the time, he manages to be okay with it, and honestly- with a potential partner in a different line of work, it is almost impossible to keep up the charade, and it inevitably involves a lot of lies, just as Jack had said.

Also, wouldn't it be unfair towards his future family if he kept doing this? If he left his wife and kids in the dark about what he was really doing? What if he went and got himself killed one day, which was more than likely? Or what if he endangered those he loved, like Ethan Raines?

Mac sighs. And even if he found someone in the same line of work- she might still turn out to be a traitor. So yeah, maybe he is jealous of Riley, a tiny little bit, but at the same time, he doesn't envy her. He only wishes they hadn't lost their previously easy connection.

He ponders this later, after his run, as he drinks the rest of the orange juice, leaning against the counter. He's still tired, but running usually clears his head and wakes him up properly. It also gets his brain into gear, and he keeps wondering how they're going to proceed. Well, it probably depends on Aubrey, in part. If Riley trusts him, he'll be alright, Mac has no doubt about that. He just can't see them all together, here on the deck, winding down after a mission, when Aubrey has to be kept in the dark.

On the other hand: they did it with Bozer, and for a long time at that. Mac still feels a bit ashamed about that in hindsight. He wouldn't be where he is now if it wasn't for Boze; he isn't even sure if he'd still be alive at all.

Well. He shakes himself out of these gloomy thoughts: he's got to get a move on if he doesn't want to be late for work. He puts down the empty juice container, then, frowning, raises his other hand: without noticing it, he picked up the former paper clip he gave up on last night. The sensation is so familiar that it didn't really register with him.

He regards it for a moment, then, quickly, begins to reshape it, not hesitating for even a second this time. Once he's done, his frown is even steeper: a heart. _Huh_.

He puts the paper clip down and heads for the shower: sometimes, even he himself doesn't understand what's going on in that mind of his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be away on vacation for the next three weeks, and since I don't know how the internet situation will be, I don't know if I'll be able to stream the new episodes/upload anything.


	5. Episode 8: Father + Son + Father + Matriarch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Season four. What a ride. I've watched all the episodes by now, though they've only been released in their original version last week, and I can't write Mac when he's not speaking in his own voice. Also, the synchronisation sometimes really sucked. So I'm now watching them again in English, yay.  
> Season four: unyay on the whole, since they're really putting Mac through the wringer. Considering the spoilers I've seen for the episodes they already shot but which are now going to be part of season 5, I wonder how Mac will stay sane at all (see end notes for more if you don't mind spoilers). 
> 
> Anyway, I am not going to write a tag for every episode after all. The thing with Matty being set up as Titan- no way. And the whole restaurant episode was amusing but nothing more. And while I really like Desi, I still don't get any chemistry between her and Mac either. So I skipped 5, 6 and 7. 8 however... see for yourself.

As Mac leaves the war room, he knows that all eyes are on him, and suddenly, he's got the urge to flee, so he walks a little faster. He's afraid that Bozer or Desi might follow him, and that's the last thing he wants. He can't deal with their sympathy and commiseration right now, the pain is too raw. If he stops, or if anyone hugs him again, he might just scream.

He pushes open the door to the parking garage with a shove, then freezes. He forgot that his truck hasn't been recovered yet. With a frustrated groan, he kicks the next available pillar, not even registering the pain in his foot.

A moment later however, an idea hits him. Slowly, he turns around on the spot until he sees it: his dad's car is still there. As if Oversight was upstairs, conferring with Matty. As if he hadn't just been blown to pieces, as if there aren't only molecules of him left now. Mac won't even be able to bury a body. With a sob that he immediately bites back down, he makes himself move again, slowly approaching the car. It's easy to open it and hot-wire the ignition; child's play. Mac takes a deep breath: his dad won't mind.

When he stops the car on his drive half an hour later, he doesn't even know how he got here: he was on autopilot the entire time. Good thing Jack didn't see this. Mac bites his lip; if there ever was the time to call Jack, it'd be now. But he's still out there on his assignment, and if the hitherto duration is any indicator of how intricate and difficult his task is, Mac certainly won't jeopardize his safety and all the work he's put into it so far by calling him because his father's dead.

He falters as he tastes these words on his tongue. His father is dead. Instead, he's got an aunt he didn't even know of until now, and he doesn't want her. He wants his dad back, wants to undo what his stupid pride is reponsible for, namely the loss of even more time together. He could have had a relationship with his dad, could finally have gotten to know him. They were off to a good start before Mason made his appearance, and now their first day of another try also turned into the last.

With eyes burning from fatigue and unshed tears, Mac drags himself into the house. He doesn't turn on any lights, he just walks into his bedroom and falls onto the mattress, shoes and all, staring into the relative darkness. The day keeps replaying in his mind, a kaleidoscope he doesn't want. He can't deal with his apparently crazy aunt and her club of criminals, he wants to try and remember the last few hours with his dad. He hears his own voice in his head: “I should've been there.” And his dad's reply: “And done what? Sit by my bedside?”

 _Yes_ , he thinks. _That's what I should have done. What Jack would have done for me_. And he realizes that he would have wanted that, would have wanted Jack there, just as he always was whenever Mac had landed himself in the hospital. Even though he pretended to be annoyed sometimes by being watched while he was sleeping, it was tremendously comforting to have someone there upon waking up. Someone he trusted, who always had his back.

His eyes are brimming once he's thought this far: he wasn't there for his dad, and the realization is hard to bear. On the other hand: his dad wasn't there for him either. Plus, maybe Jim really didn't want anyone there with him, maybe Mac and he were simply different in that regard. But if he did- Mac doesn't even know if Jim would have wanted _him_ there, if he was the person his dad trusted to have his back. An uncomfortable notion.

Then again, Mac knew that his dad was terminally ill. He should have been the bigger person; it was his _job_ to save lives, for crying out loud. He could have made an effort, despite his own disappointment.

He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, unable to stop the tears now, and he struggles with this kind of thoughts for most of the night.

On the following morning, he is the first one to arrive in the war room, despite not having slept. He endures the other's efforts to make him feel better with all the self-composure he can muster, hugs them back, fends off any attempts to send him home. Home is empty and quiet, at home he can't do anything useful.

He knows he looks bleary-eyed, but he's got a job to do, and despite his fatigue, he doesn't think he could sleep if he tried. So he perseveres- pushes the almost physical pain aside, ignores how his hackles raise every time someone comes too close, and focuses on the task at hand as best as he can, even though it's close to killing him.

That night, Bozer insists on coming home with him, and Mac doesn't have the energy to talk him out of it. They pick up some take-out on the way and sit down on the deck, where Bozer gets the fire going and tries to get Mac to talk, the way he always did.

This time, it's different though. Mac barely tastes what he's eating, and he's only doing that for his friend's sake anyway. He can't talk about his father or his aunt's role in the whole Codex issue though, not yet, not out loud. All the things he's been mulling over in his head are overwhelming him enough as it is. Putting them into words is impossible.

Bozer, meaning well, gives up on the talking at one point, but he actually waits until Mac has gone to bed before he leaves. Mac lies with open eyes, listening for Bozer's car to drive away, then he gets up again. “Auntie Gwen” is bugging him, and the fact that he didn't even know about her. Apparently, his mom and she didn't have any contact after he was born. He ponders this; he doesn't have any photos of his mom from before her marriage, but maybe his dad did. And Mac's got a key to his apartment, courtesy of the brief time during which he accompanied Jim to his chemo appointments.

On the way there, Mac's thoughts return to his aunt. Why did his grandpa never mention her? Why did everybody always choose to lie to him? To his annoyance, his eyes are filling up again, and he quickly blinks. Maybe he'll find some answers among his dad's stuff.

What he didn't expect is that he can't do it. He's standing in front of his dad's door, key in hand, and can't bring himself to open it. He's just not ready. After a few minutes of indecision, he turns around on his heels and walks away. Taking his dad's car is one thing. Entering his apartment apparently is a whole different matter.

On the third day, the team haven't gotten any closer to Codex. While they found a lot of pointers about their activities, which are global, on an alarmingly big scale and reaching into the highest ranks of governments around the world, the remaining members are elusive and well concealed.

Mac, who is running on fumes by now, rubs his eyes with two fingers; he's got a headache, and he's past the point where he can just ignore that he needs sleep; he can barely think anymore, but he's still not ready to give up.

Bozer and Riley have been exchanging conspiratorial looks all day; their plan is to just grab him, put him in the car, take him home, tuck him into bed and knock him out with something effective but harmless. They agree that they should have done it sooner, but Mac... they felt sorry for him. And Bozer knows from experience that it's usually better to leave Mac be until he's powered himself out. This time however it doesn't seem to be happening, and they worry that he might just collapse at one point.

They are just about to wrap things up in the late afternoon when the door opens. Incensed, because the windows are blinded and whoever it is who dares to interrupt didn't even knock, Matty turns around, but her harsh reprimand dies on her lips.

“Hi, guys,” Jack says. “Miss me?” For a moment, nobody seems to be breathing, then Riley, Bozer and Desi all start to shout and whoop, running towards Jack and hugging him. Laughing, he hugs back and kisses Riley on the cheek, but his eyes are on Mac, who just stares at him, blinking slowly, as though he's seeing an apparition. Jack looks like he always did, wearing jeans, his third favourite Metallica t-shirt and a leather jacket over that. His eyes are twinkling.

“That is a pleasant surprise,” Matty says slowly, smiling, and Jack briefly directs his attention at her: “No time to call ahead,” he says, returning the smile. “It's good to see you, though.”

With a sob, Riley hugs him close once more: “We missed you,” she mutters, and he kisses her again: “Missed you too, baby girl.”

Mac still hasn't moved, just watches the scene that's unfolding in front of him while tears are running down his cheeks.

Once the others have let go of him, Jack walks towards Mac: “Hey, Carl's Jr.,” he says softly, already reaching for his kid, and Mac just sags against him as Jack wraps his arms around him, pulls him close and holds him tightly; he seems dazed, but somehow, he brings up his own arms around Jack and closes his eyes.

After that, it's all a bit hazy. Mac starts to shake when he understands that this is real, that he didn't at one point keel over and is only dreaming this. His legs wouldn't carry him any longer if Jack didn't hold him, but he doesn't care. He begins to laugh, quietly, until he's crying, and all the while, Jack's got a firm grip around him, and Mac can feel his heartbeat, strong as ever, and Jack's familiar scent is around him.

People are talking, and then there's only Jack's voice, soft and low in Mac's ear: “Time to go home, hoss, what do you think?”

Mac nods against him, very aware of everyone around him all of a sudden, but Jack strokes his neck with his thumb: “I've got you,” he mutters tenderly. “Come on.”

And then there's another presence close by, someone as strong and tall as Jack: “Russ Taylor, pleased to meet you,” he says while he helps Jack to support Mac, who's unable to walk on his own being as depleted as he is. Mac zones out for a bit, doesn't follow the ensuing conversation, and then they're at the car- Jack's car, and Jack climbs onto the backseat with him. Mac falls asleep before they have even left the parking garage.

He wakes up in his own bed, for a few blessed moments unaware of the circumstances. He blinks, feeling comfortable if still tired, and squints at the alarm clock on the night stand: it's almost noon. Frowning, Mac wonders which day it is and why he's slept so long, but then it all comes back to him. Oh God, did he only dream that Jack was back? He gets out of bed so quickly that he almost trips about the comforter, runs into the kitchen- empty. As is the living room. For a moment, Mac falters, then he runs out to the deck- and there he is, lounging on one of the deckchairs.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” Jack greets him cheerily, but he is looking Mac over as he is wont to do, scanning him carefully.

“Jack,” Mac only says, and suddenly, his eyes are brimming again.

Jack's heart constricts: the kid looks terrible. He's thinner than ever and there are dark bruises underneath his eyes which only emphasize how pale he is.

Jack gets to his feet: “I'm so sorry about your dad, kiddo,” he says softly, and Mac nods, unable to speak and doing his best to keep it together, but then his face contorts. At which Jack's eyes are getting moist as well. Much like on the previous day, he puts his arms around his boy and just holds him until the worst is over.

“You back for good?” Mac manages once he has calmed down somewhat. “You got Kovacs?”

“Yeah.” Jack gives him a relieved smile. “Finally! When I signed on for that ride, I didn't expect it to last that long, to be honest.”

Mac regards him, wiping his eyes: Jack has lost weight, and there are new lines on his face. Probably's got some new scars and a whole new pack of nightmares too, but... it's still him. He's still alive, and he's come back to Mac.

“Sorry about this miserable welcome,” he mutters, wrapping his arms around himself without being aware that he's doing so. “I've missed you so much!”

“I've missed you too, hoss,” Jack says, “you got no idea! He reaches for Mac again, cups his neck with one hand: “I should've been here, huh?” he says seriously. “Help you deal with that whole dad stuff, and after what happened at the Phoenix, and with Charlie?”

Obviously, the others have filled him in on what happened in the meantime.

Mac wants to say that Jack couldn't have done anything, but that's a lie. True, Jack couldn't have prevented all those things like Charlie getting killed and his dad being like he was, but Mac _would_ have needed him. He doesn't want Jack to feel guilty though, and he isn't selfish enough not to understand that Jack had no choice but to go after Kovacs when he had the chance.

“You're here now,” is what he settles on.

Jack's expression softens, inwardly glad about the fortunate timing: “Damn right I am,” he replies. “And that's the last time I've ever left you, promise.”

Mac gives a choked little laugh, but his eyes are tearing up once more, he can't help it.

“C'mere,” Jack mutters, pulling him in again, and they hold on to one another until neither of them is trembling anymore.

“How about you put some clothes on and I make us some coffee and something edible?” Jack asks after they have let go a while later.

Mac nods; he still doesn't have an appetite, but coffee sounds good.

“Did you put me to bed?” Mac asks once they're seated on the couch in the living room a while later, each a steaming mug in their hand and a plate of sandwiches on the coffee table. Someone must have been shopping.

“With Bozer's help.”

Averting his gaze, Mac nods: “Thanks.”

Jack's gaze is sympathetic: “You didn't think I'd stop helicopter parenting you just because I was away for a few years, did you? I mean, you'll always be my little bomb nerd. And Bozer's been mother-henning you since you were ten, if I'm not very much mistaken.”

“Yeah.” A small smile flits over Mac's drawn features.

“See? No big deal. Except that you scared the whole team a little, even that Russ guy.”

Mac blushes. “I didn't mean to. I just couldn't sleep recently, and we need to find those Codex people. So I might have pushed myself a little too hard.” It's easy to admit it to Jack, who knows him so well he'd have seen right through him anyway.

“We will,” Jack says levelly. “All in good time though. No need to run yourself into the ground, okay?”

His voice softens: “I get where you're coming from, kiddo, I do. Losing a parent is never easy, and under these circumstances... Riley told me that you and your dad didn't have much contact lately.” He says it cautiously.

Mac stares into his coffee: “That was my fault.” And he tells Jack everything, starting with Charlie and ending with his father's last day. Jack listens attentively, sometimes commenting, sometimes asking questions. They talk all afternoon and into the night once Mac has finished. Jack doesn't try to convince him that he's not to blame, because he knows that Mac needs to get there of his own volition. It's a process, and sometimes, the guilt stays no matter what. But he manages to make him see how James didn't exactly fight for him either, without making his dad looking like a bad guy. Yes, Mac made it clear that he didn't want to talk to James, but that shouldn't have stopped the latter from at least keeping to try and make amends.

“Doesn't matter that you're grown-up as well and he was sick, he's the dad,” Jack says softly. “But it sounds to me as though he didn't lie when he said that he's bad at those things. He could have done with some help too, I think. He didn't not do it on purpose, he just... didn't know how, I guess.”

Mac nods through fresh tears. It's not easy to talk about this, but it's cathartic. He's grateful for Jack's insights and understanding even though it hurts.

In turn, Jack tells Mac about the two years of his absence. They make a fresh plate of sandwiches and return to the couch, one in each corner, a blanket over both of them. In between, Bozer, Desi, Riley, Matty and even Russ call to hear how they're doing, and Mac can't but be grateful to have so many people caring about them.

It's not always easy to listen to Jack's report, but it gives Mac a pretty comprehensive idea of what Jack's been through and why the operation took so long. Kovacs was like a spider in a web; Jack and his team were thorough. The web's been taken down as well, but since it was so intricate, it required a lot of careful planning. “One wrong move and we'd have blown the whole thing,” Jack says tiredly. “Felt like walking on eggshells for most of the time.”

And it meant moving around a lot too, meeting new informants, new confidants. Always being on the lookout. Seeing the worst of what people were capable of up close. It was hard, and it was lonely. Mac can read in Jack's expression how worn out he is while he's talking, remembering; he's had himself under control before, and he's going to school his features into showing his relaxed old self once he's finished, but while he's revisiting the experience, he forgets to do that.

Mac regards him and feels a fresh wave of affection for this guy. “You gonna be okay?” he asks, because he knows what a tender heart his partner has, despite appearances.

Jack's eyes wander over Mac's face: the notion that the kid isn't so easily fooled by him makes him proud. “Eventually,” he says. “Now that I'm back.”

At the end of the day, Mac is as exhausted as he felt before, but it means he'll be able to sleep. He feels a little guilty because Jack is going to stay too instead of finally going home and sleeping in his own bed, but Jack brushes that off: “Home is where the heart is,” he says with a mischievous little grin that belies the fact that he actually prefers not to be alone either right now. “Yes, I know it sounds cheesy, but it's true nevertheless.”

His sweet girl Riley offered him her bed, since she's going to stay at her mom's in order to give them some privacy, for which he is grateful. Not that he wouldn't have wanted her there with them, on the contrary, and he's still not quite clear on why she's moved in with Mac, but right now, he's got to focus on his boy.

Mac, who feels too bruised to make jokes, just gives him a small smile: “I'm glad you're here. I love you, man.”

“Talk about cheesy,” Jack mutters, but he beams at Mac: “Love you too, hoss.”

Mac crawls into bed and is immediately able to close his eyes. The raw, aching spot is still palpable, but it's like Jack's presence has put a soothing balm on it, is making it a little more bearable. In fact, it's a puzzling contradiction that his heart still feels so exhaustingly heavy because of his dad, but at the same time soars whenever he is aware of the fact that Jack is here and going to stay.

Despite all the new information and everything he heard today, it doesn't take long for him to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't read this if you don't want any potential spoilers for season 5.
> 
> https://kerkerian.tumblr.com/post/626736655398731776/spoilers-for-season-5-and-not-of-the-good-kind


	6. Episode 9: Code + Artemis + Nuclear + N3mesis

Mac is still sad, of course, because grief isn't something you get over with so quickly, or at all- it just usually gets more bearable at one point. So there are ups and downs, good days and bad ones and everything in between.

Jack however keeps Mac from drawing back into himself too much, makes sure he isn't left to his own devices for too long these days, because it's evident how thoroughly his aunt and her cronies and James' death have messed with the kid.

Mac is distracted or lost in thought a lot of the time, and often doesn't sleep well; his already hyperactive brain is keeping him up at night, because he's pondering. Jack inevitably comes by every morning; ostensibly, to have breakfast with his kids, make up for some of the lost time, but Mac is aware that it's his way of checking up on him, of ensuring that Mac eats and doesn't get too tangled up in everything that's troubling him. Riley knows it too, and she's secretly glad.

She's also trying to help, but Mac has a way of putting up walls around him like no other, just by appearing so vulnerable sometimes that Riley falters, unable to find the right words or figure out what to do; the last thing she wants is to make it worse, after all.

Jack however doesn't have these qualms on such occasions; he prefers the more ballistic approach. The thing is, with him, it works. He can talk to Mac in that gentle yet determined way of his which is a mixture of understanding and challenge and which, miraculously, manages to get through to Mac every time.

Or, depending on the situation, he just stays with Mac, offering consolation and support without any pressure. Whichever it is, he's got a fine-tuned sixth sense when it comes to these things, and Riley thinks she can learn a lot from him just by watching him taking care of their boy.

Jack doesn't like it, but a week after he's gotten home, he's got to go to Washington for two days, for the unofficial post-mission debrief concerning Kovacs. Even black ops can't do without those, after all.

When he comes back in the early morning, having taken a red-eye, the first thing that pops up on his phone is a message from Riley: “Mac's acting weird. Can you come ASAP, please?”

“What is it?” Jack asks as he kisses Riley hello, putting his bag down.

Riley shrugs unhappily: “I woke up at 6:03 because he was building some kind of air scrubbing filter. Looks like he's been up on all night too.” She motions towards the kitchen island, which is littered with paper from a notepad.

Jack takes one up: “Lists... looks like he wrote down which kind of emergency rations we'd need in case of a catastrophic event... How many fallout shelters the city would have to build... Oh boy.” He gives Riley a terse smile: “Thanks for telling me.”

Riley follows him out to the deck, where Mac is still busy with the air filter, Apparently, he's hit a snag, because he looks frustrated, and his hands are shaking as he tries to get one particular bit to fit and it doesn't. This isn't the slow, calm and collected little bomb nerd Jack's come to know and love in Afghanistan. This is a person close to a breakdown.

“Hey, hoss, what'cha doin'?” Jack keeps his tone carefully light.

“Jack, you're back early!” Mac only glances at him however. “Trying to build a filter that's affordable for everyone. It's only a small step, but if we could get these to get mass- produced...”

He breaks off when he sees Jack's expression.

“What?” he says defiantly. A tone Jack heard a lot during their first few days in the sandbox, back when he was deliberately giving the kid a hard time and Mac had to defend himself 24/7. Not exactly something he's proud of.

“Nothing,” Jack replies slowly. “I'm just wondering what's brought this on.”

“Codex,” Mac's tone is irritable. “They are crazy, but they're still right about what we're doing to the planet! We need to do something-”

“I agree,” Jack interrupts him calmly. “Not like this though. No... frantic building stuff at six in the morning. No writing lists in the middle of the night.”

For a moment, Mac tenses visibly, then he sags, dropping the hammer he was holding: “But what am I supposed to do?” he asks, sounding very young and at the end of his tether.

Jack shrugs: “Start small, as you said. Buy a sensible car, use public transport, try to actively avoid using plastic, support the cause of that little Swedish girl, that kind of stuff. Work on your air scrubber whenever you got time. Just... don't run yourself into the ground trying to do it.”

Mac huffs a bitter laugh: “It's not enough,” he mutters, wrapping his arms around himself.

“It's not on you alone either,” Jack counters. “You can't save everyone, Mac. That's on all of us.”

Jaw working, Mac looks as though he wants to disagree. Instead, he just sags: “It's not gonna work,” he mutters dejectedly. “It's not gonna be enough, it's too late.”

Jack regards him, heart hurting for his boy: “Maybe not,” he says tentatively. “There are more people like you, people who see the situation for what it is and are doing their darnedest to change it. And I'm not talking about Codex here. I'm talking about scientists and engineers and even politicians. Hell, and that little Swedish girl and those who support her.”

Mac averts his gaze, but then he nods, slowly. Jack has a point, of course, even if Mac still can't see how these seemingly few people are supposed to prevail against those who, mostly out of financially or politically motivated reasons, impede every attempt to change things. Who flat out deny facts like the climate change out of said reasons. Well. In case of the president, there's a good deal of ignorance and stupidity in the mix too, and weirdly, he's still got a lot of followers who believe every single lie he's bleating out. Mac has stopped watching the news because it's getting ridiculous and unbearable, and he's embarrassed every time.

However, there are too many people like that guy out there, people who also deny what is currently happening because they're afraid or too lazy to actively change their own consumerism to a point where they'd have to leave their comfort zones. As long as people regard the earth's current state as someone else's problem, nothing much will happen.

Mac worries his lower lip: once they've stopped Codex, he's gonna sell the Tacoma and buy a more eco-friendly car, that's for sure. He feels a little stupid that he didn't think of that right away when he sold the jeep.

Jack's gaze is still on his partner: “You wanna come inside for some coffee, bud?”

“Yeah.” Mac slowly gets to his feet and follows Jack inside; Riley has made some coffee in the meantime. She's nowhere to see though, has probably gone back to bed or is getting ready for the day.

Jack motions towards the lists which are still lying on the table: “The Phoenix has got a formidable bunker at their service. I don't think we'll need emergency packs, hoss.”

Mac's expression darkens: “What about the rest? All the people who won't have a bunker to shelter in?”

Jack regards him: “I really don't like to repeat this, but we can't save everyone.”

“But that's-”

“I know it's not fair.” Jack's gaze is steady. “Look at it this way: we'll do everything we can to help. And we got resources to do so.”

“Are you saying that we're more worth saving than others?”

“ _No_ , I'm saying that yes, we're lucky, but that we will continue to use our fortune in order to do good.”

Mac frowns. “I don't see what good we'll be able to do in case of a worst-case scenario with radioactive fallout. We'd not even be able to leave the bunker for years.”

Jack sighs: “Let's hope it doesn't come to that.”

Mac is even quieter than usual during the next few days; he doesn't mention their conversation again, but Jack knows that he's pondering the matter.

And then Lasky happens. Jack has gone with Desi and Riley, because there's no way he's letting his girls venture out into the city alone under these circumstances, and Mac seems to be doing fine at the power plant. What Jack didn't expect, of course, was that his boy had to make such a decision.

The moment Jack sees him, his eyes red-rimmed, his face devastated, he knows that this is Mac's personal worst-case scenario. The notion of actively having killed an innocent person is something he can't handle; Jack's seen that before, when Mac was wrongly accused of murder and arrested on Christmas Eve. The sheer relief when he learned that the man had been dead before, that he wasn't responsible, was something Jack was not going to forget. However, neither was the fact that Mac would willingly have gone to prison as long as he believed he had actually killed someone. That was how the kid ticked, and this time, there was no doubt about what had happened.

“Mac,” Jack says as soon as they are in the car and on their way back to the Phoenix. “This isn't on you.”

Mac sounds nasal as he replied, and his eyes are red-rimmed: “I pressed that button.”

“And if you hadn't, someone else would have.” Jack keeps glancing at Mac, who just shakes his head.

So Jack keeps talking: “You know... when I was a kid, I often pestered my dad with questions about the war. Did you really shoot at someone? I'd ask. Hell, I was a stupid kid, I had no idea how difficult it was for him to talk about it. He'd just look at me saying 'look at it this way: it was either him or me'.” He pauses, regarding Mac. “And this is similar, hoss. Only this isn't between two people but between one guy and a whole city.”

Mac takes a shuddering breath: “Explain that to his family.”

In the middle of the debrief, which Matty keeps thankfully short because it's been a long day already, Mac excuses himself and doesn't come back. Jack knows him well enough to first check in with security once they've finished, who indeed confirm that Mac has left in his car.

Shaking his head, Jack turns to Riley: “Can I give you a ride?”

“Thanks,” she replies softly. “I'll better stay and make sure that Nemesis is out of commission once and for all.”

He nods: “See you later, honey,” and is out of the door before she can say anything else.

Mac's house once more is unlocked. Jack closes the door behind him, making a mental note that he'll have to talk to Mac about that, and listens: it's quiet. He looks in the kitchen and the living room, both of which are empty, as is the deck.

“Mac?” he calls, but doesn't get an answer. Instead, he can hear water running in the distance.

Slowly, he makes his way to Mac's room, where he knocks on the bathroom door: “It's me, hoss. Just to let you know I'm here. Didn't think I'd leave you alone after today, did you?”

There's no reply, though he thinks he can hear something: a choked little sound that sends all of Jack's inner alarm bells into a frenzy.

“Mac? Talk to me?”

Nothing.

“Okay, you're scaring me, so I'm coming in, okay?”

He half expects some indignant protest, but when it remains silent, he pushes the door open and walks in.

Mac is sitting next to the toilet, huddled in on himself as much as possible while leaning against the wall. His face is chalk-white, and his eyes are bloodshot.

“Hey, bud,” Jack says, appalled, his voice thin with worry. He squats down next to Mac, who averts his gaze: he is trembling.

Jack doesn't have to ask what's happening, or why. This is an acute stress reaction caused by guilt, and as misplaced as it is, Mac seems to believe that he is the one person to blame. So Jack lowers himself onto the floor next to him: “You remember what I said in the car?”

Mac closes his eyes for a moment, swallowing: “It wasn't a quick death,” he murmurs.

“It's still not your fault,” Jack insists gently. “Please, Mac- listen to me. It was... unfortunate that it had to happen like that, that you were the one who had to decide what to do. You did the right thing though. I know it's horrible, but you saved a lot of lives today. Can't save everyone, remember?”

Mac's face contorts as he tries to keep his tears at bay: “What if it had been me in there?” he asks, his voice choked. “Would you have done it?”

Which is the one question Jack can't possibly answer, and Mac knows it.

“I got nothing,” Jack accordingly says softly.

Mac gives a humourless little laugh: “Come on, it's an easy decision, isn't it? Either you can save one man or four million people.”

“No, it's _not_ an easy decision,” Jack says, forcing himself to remain calm. He's rarely seen Mac like this, feeling cornered and ready to lash out. “And we all _know_ that it wasn't an easy decision, hoss.”

Mac huffs disparagingly, but then he lurches, only just getting to his feet in time before he throws up once more. When he sits down again, he's shaking badly.

Jack regards him: “I'll go and get you some ginger tea.” He knows Mac's always got some of that at home, since his grandpa swore on it.

In the kitchen, Jack boils some water and prepares the tea, then he takes the mug and a blanket to the bathroom.

Mac is still trembling, arms wrapped around his torso, but he accepts the mug and doesn't protest either when Jack drapes the blanket around his shoulders.

“Knowing us,” he then says, “we'd probably both have been in there anyway.”

Mac doesn't reply; all the fight seems to have left him now. He does scoot a little closer to Jack, however, until their arms and shoulders touch. They sit in silence for maybe half an hour; Mac regains a little colour, and the tea seems to be doing the trick. Apart from that, Jack keeps one hand on his back, rubbing up and down ever so slightly, which is always calming the kid, as he's discovered a long time ago.

“I dunno about you,” Jack eventually says, “but my butt's falling asleep. What do you say we'll get out of here?”

Mac nods, allowing Jack to pull him to his feet.

“I'mma lie down,” he mutters, crawling onto his bed. Jack takes the blanket, shakes it out and covers him with it: “I'll be in the living room if you need me.”

“Thanks.” The word is small and barely audible, but Jack breathes a sigh of relief. It'd have been so much worse if Mac had tried to send him away.

“Always, kiddo,” he says softly before he turns to go.

Mac's beyond exhausted, therefore he falls asleep despite the thoughts that are still reeling in mind.

Jack looks in on him a few times; poor kid's really at the end of his tether now, and Jack has silently been ranting about the unfairness of it all ever since they left the power plant. In fact, he's so rattled by it all that he doesn't even turn on the TV, just sits on the couch with one ear out, pondering things.

When Riley comes home, Jack has fallen asleep as well. She spreads a blanket over him and peeks into Mac's room next, which is almost dark except for the neon sign above the bed; she's glad to see that he's also sleeping, especially when Jack's in Über-Dad Mode, and she knows the latter well enough to know what she saw just now. He wasn't just lounging on the couch when his fatigue caught up with him, he was keeping vigil.

She's about to turn away as well when there's movement on the bed, then she hears Mac's voice: “Riles?” He sounds drowsy and very young. Vulnerable.

“Yes, it's me.” For a moment, she hesitates, then she steps closer, because this is what Jack would probably do: not back out but be straightforward. Take the bull by the horns, so to speak. “Shitty day, huh?”

Mac doesn't answer, but he is breathing audibly. As if he's trying to keep it together but failing.

To her dismay, Riley feels tears welling up in her eyes as well. She sits down on the bed: “I wish I had never written that code,” she says, because that thought haunted her all day. None of this would have happened if it weren't for her.

Mac sits up: “It's not your fault,” he says softly, wiping his eyes with one hand. “You couldn't know what was going to happen.”

Riley nods, but deep down, she disagrees. Now that her eyes have adjusted to the dim light, she can see that Mac looks as miserable as she feels.

“How're you doing?” she asks after a moment of silence,

Mac averts his gaze: “I killed someone today. What do you think?”

“You didn't kill him,” Riley says, fresh tears welling up. “If anything, it was me.”

“I pressed that button, Riles.”

“Yes, because it was my code that sent the system into overload.”

They stare at one another, angry and sad and weighed down by sorrow, aware that there's no real solution to this, that somehow, they're in this together whether they're directly to blame or not.

“C'mere?” Mac eventually says, lifting his blanket, and suddenly, it's easy. Riley kicks off her boots and slips out of her jacket and crawls into his arms.

If there's one person who understands how she's feeling tonight, it's probably him, after all. And she knows how shaken Mac is, how this only serves to question his own integrity and decency as a human being. She hurts for him just as much as she's hurting for herself and the friendship with Peyton she once had but lost.

Mac is just as glad that Riley is there, that they are close enough once more to be able to console each other.

Without Jack, he'd probably still be in the bathroom, throwing up or just staring into space. He's grateful that Jack is taking his helicopter-parenting so seriously, even after everything that happened, and that he never lets Mac push him away.

But this here, having someone warm and breathing holding him, with a lionheart he can feel beating through their clothes, is calming on a whole different level.

They cling to one another tightly, sharing their guilt and their grief. They don't talk anymore, but that's okay; it's warm and comforting, and eventually, they fall asleep.


	7. Episode 10: "Tesla + Bell + Edison + Mac"

The unicorns are back. This time though, Mac is not giving a lecture; this time, they are giggling at him because there's something he should know but doesn't. He's racking his brains trying to remember what it is, but all he ends up with is a steadily increasing headache.

“Forget it,” one of the unicorns says in a somewhat familiar voice while the others fade away. “You're nowhere near smart enough. _Muggle_.”

He doesn't know what's worse- the feeling that what he's looking for is at the tip of his tongue and yet elusive, or the fact that he's being mocked by a previously friendly unicorn.

“Intelligence has got nothing to do with magic,” he says, though he's got a feeling that that's not the point.

The unicorn just stares at him: “You keep finding excuses, do you?” it says.

“We just met,” Mac says defiantly.

“But you killed me.” And suddenly, he knows- that voice is Lasky's, and now Mac recognizes him. Why on earth did he think he was seeing a unicorn before?

“This isn't earth,” another familiar voice says, and then there's Jack, and something about his tone is making Mac shiver.

“Jack,” he says, sounding far too desperate even to his own liking. “Are you coming back?”

Jack spreads his arms: “Look around, doofus,” he snarls, a sarcastic grin on his face. “We're in the underworld. There's no coming back from here.”

It feels as though the ground breaks away from underneath Mac's feet.

“No,” he grinds out. “No, Jack... You're not dead. You can't be dead!”

“Don't you know?” Jack shakes his head. “We all are!”

“And it's your fault.” Lasky comes to stand next to Jack, folding his arms in front of his chest.

Mac stares at them, horrified, and now there are more faces swimming into his view, familiar faces like his grandpa and his mom. They all scowl at him.

He recoils, feeling his eyes getting wet and closing them, and then things are getting a bit hazy. Someone is touching him, and he hears his name, but he doesn't dare to look again.

It's Jack who keeps talking to him, and after a while, the dread that has been causing Mac to tremble and cower is slowly abating, and when he does open his eyes a while later, Jack is smiling at him. “What're you doing, Short Round?” he asks, “stop stalling, come on! We got a job to do!”

Mac opens his mouth, at a loss: “But you're... you said we're dead!”

“We are.” Jack flashes him a grin. “Doesn't mean we can laze around all day. Gotta save the world!”

“Since when are you calling me Short Round?”

“Come on, can't you figure it out?”

Mac's head is hurting too much for that, however. He grimaces: “Don't think so...”

“Mac?”

“I can't.”

“Mac.”

“Please... stop.”

“Mac!”

And then he opens his eyes for real, and Jack's worried face is swimming into view.

Mac's head hurts something fierce, and he's lying in a bed; Phoenix Medical, probably.

“Jack?” he mumbles.

“Yeah, I'm here.” The relief in Jack's voice in unmistakable. “How're you feeling?”

Mac is still trying to figure that out. The last thing he remembers is getting into a fight in Tesla's house-

“What happened?” he asks, bolting up so quickly that his vision blackens for a moment. Nausea assails him while Jack gently but firmly presses him down again: “Easy there, tiger,” he says sympathetically, because Mac turned white the moment he was upright.

“You gonna hurl?”

“No.” Mac briefly closes his eyes to gather himself. “Just need a moment.” He doesn't have the time to lie around uselessly. “What happened?” he repeats.

“We got them and Tesla's ray gun thingy,” Jack replies hesitantly, “but the girl got away. Desi's really pissed, said she's got a bone to pick with her.”

“How-”

“Oh, after you realized that the pictures on the ceiling weren't only ornaments but a code in disguise, Russ figured the rest out.” Jack's expression becomes proud: “You ain't my little genius for nothing, hoss.”

“Not a genius.” Mac sounds crestfallen all of a sudden, and Jack has an inkling where it is coming from.

Ever since the power plant, Mac's been subdued and mostly quiet, his expression guarded.

He kept close to Jack whenever they were together, which was most of the time, but barely talked, no matter what his partner did to cheer him up. At least he didn't hide though, Jack thought. At least he allowed Jack to be there for him just by being present.

Jack now shakes his head: “I beg to differ,” he says softly, adding _if only you could see yourself through my eyes sometimes_ in the privacy of his mind.

Not feeling up to a discussion, Mac groans: “When can I leave?”

“I dunno, man,” Jack looks around. “I'm supposed to let the doc know you woke up. Do me a favour and press that button, will you?”

Mac complies, still doing his best to rally so Dr. Sinderby won't insist on keeping him in.

“I know that expression,” Sinderby accordingly says by way of a greeting. “It's your 'I'm fine, please can I go home and ignore all of your annoying instructions?' face.”

Mac doesn't quite manage a scowl.

“Name?” Dr. Sinderby asks, unfazed by Mac's apparent displeasure.

“Angus MacGyver.”

"Date of birth?"

"March 23rd, 1990."

“How many noble metals are listed in the periodic table of elements?”

Mac smirks: “Eight if you include silver.”

Nodding, the doctor shines his pen lights into his eyes: “Sorry to disappoint, but you're not going anywhere.”

“I don't have a concussion,” Mac says boldly, at which Sinderby only raises his eyebrows: “Oh, you've mastered the art of divination, have you? Otherwise I'd really like to know how you've come to that conclusion.”

“Not seeing double, no nausea-”

Jack audibly clears his throat at that, which Mac ignores.

“You were passed out for almost three hours,” Sinderby interrupts him. “And while you may not have a concussion, the tension around your eyes is betraying a considerable headache- _yes_ , I've met you before. Judging from the rather impressive bump, you certainly hit your head hard enough to warrant a few precautions. There's always the risk of a cerebral contusion, which is why we'd like to monitor you for a while. Thus your non-negotiable minimum stay of one night.”

Imploringly, Mac looks at Jack, who only shrugs.

Dr. Sinderby isn't finished: “And there's another issue I've been meaning to talk about with you. Would you like to prefer to talk in private?” He glances at Jack, already guessing the answer.

“No,” Mac accordingly says, and Jack immediately inches closer to the bed.

“Very well.” Subduing a smile despite the rather serious topic is about to broach, Sinderby nods. “You're too thin, to put it bluntly,” he says, regarding Mac over the rim of his glasses. “My guess is that you're at least 18 pounds below the average weight for your height and age. Maybe more.”

His expression softens: “You've always been on the lean side, and I won't go so far and ask you about possible eating disorders. I know that your job is demanding, and of course, I'm aware of your recent personal loss.” His tone is sympathetic. “As your attending physician however, I am obliged to point out that there are specialists you can talk to, should you consider counseling.”

This is so unexpected that Mac doesn't know what to say. To his dismay, he can feel his eyes getting moist, because apparently, there is nothing he can do right these days and he suddenly feels all of the bone-deep exhaustion that has been building up over the past months and which he kept ignoring to the best of his abilities until now.

As always, Jack steps in, actually moving a little so that he's standing between Mac and the doctor, whom he ushers away from the bed bodily; seeing the urgency in Jack's expression, the doctor complies, walking backwards a few steps.

“Mac's very muscular,” Jack says, even though he actually agrees with Sinderby's assessment; he's been worrying about Mac's weight ever since he's come back. “And he eats on a more or less regular basis, I'm making sure of it.”

Sinderby appreciates Dalton's concern and feels inexplicably glad that MacGyver's got this amazing friend. “I'm glad to hear that,” he replies quietly, giving the agent a quick smile. “Because he simply can't afford to lose any more weight.” He lowers his voice: “Am I right in assuming that you're keeping a weather eye on him now that you're back with us?”

“I am,” Dalton assures him. “With everything that's happening, I'm not letting my boy out of my sight if I can help it.”

“Good.” The doctor claps a hand on Jack's shoulder: “Keep in mind what I said,” he said. “If you think it's getting worse, please talk to me.”

Jack nods.

Dr. Sinderby glances at Mac: “I'm gonna have the nurse give him something to relieve the headache. I'll be back later. And Dalton- you and I both know he's a flight risk. Please see to it that he doesn't scarper, 'kay?”

“Yeah.” Jack rubs his neck. “Will do.”

Mac's regained his composure in the meantime, but now he's looking embarrassed, and Jack's feeling for him. Calmly, he regards his kid: “Looks like I'm not gonna be able to break you out this time.”

“I'm _fine_ ,” Mac says, though his voice is brittle and he's still pale.

“No, you're not,” Jack hears himself say, though he's not certain he means Mac's current physical condition. He pulls up the chair he's been sitting in earlier and takes a seat.

“This is a waste of time,” Mac insists, ignoring Jack's remark.

“No, buddy, it's really not.”

“And I'm not anorexic either.”

“I know."

“Then help me get out of here.”

“Sorry, no.”

“Jack-”

“You heard the doc.” Jack leans forward: “You've known the guy for a long time now. If he says it's best you stay, you stay.”

“He also thinks I'm starving myself.”

“To be fair, one could get the impression.”

Jack raises his hands appeasingly when Mac bristles: “Not me, obviously. I know you're eating.”

He doesn't need to elaborate or point out how all of Mac's belts seem to have gotten a few new holes punched into them nevertheless. "It's the doc's job to speak up if something doesn't add up though, and it's undeniable that you're a bit on the super scrawny side."

"I've always been scrawny."

"No, you've always been slender." Jack sounds fond. "There's a difference."

"So, I've lost a few pounds, it's no big deal."

"All he said was that you shouldn't lose any more. My guess is that he's genuinely worried about you, bud. You got a way to get under people's skin."

Mac snorts, and Jack doesn't try to drive the point home; Mac already feels cornered enough as it is, after all, and not quite ready to believe that he's still one of the good guys, no matter what happened recently. Jack is aware that his boy is still haunted by the incident at the power plant; his self-confidence has been severely shaken.

For a moment, they remain silent.

“I should be making myself useful,” Mac then says tersely. The very fact that he doesn't even try to sit up again, however, tells Jack how he's really feeling.

“The team's on it,” Jack counters. “You're not doing anyone any favours if you get yourself discharged too early and aren't up to par when it counts.”

Mac looks belligerent.

Right then, the nurse comes to administer the pain medication, and he doesn't protest, just watches in silent resignation.

Once the drug takes effect, Jack can see how the tension slowly seeps out of his friend and the pinched look on his face vanishes.

For the umpteenth time, Jack inwardly curses Mac's aunt and her crazy Codex club as he regards the kid, who looks boneless now, as though he'd sink further down and through the bedding any time if he wasn't careful. Unthinkingly, Jack reaches for Mac's hand, half expecting him to pull away, but to his relief, Mac actually folds his fingers around Jack's as well.

Gently, Jack squeezes his hand: “We'll make up for the lost time today,” he says softly, because who's he kidding, and Mac, after a moment, nods.

Jack's glad that Mac believes him even though he isn't sure he can promise such a thing at all. But it's what Mac needs to hear right then, and if it serves to put his mind at ease, Jack is going to do his darnedest to keep it. As usual.

It's difficult to see Mac hurting all the time, and Jack's gotten the impression that he was pretty alone with it too for a while. He knows better than to seek blame, though he feels guilty for not having been back sooner to ground his friend, and support him. Make him feel less forlorn.

As it is, the hits just keep coming, and even though he's here now, he still feels like he hasn't done a very good job recently protecting his little bomb nerd. That's going to have to change if things are ever supposed to be looking up again; they just need to regain their old footing, which is a strangely reassuring thought.

"You and I, kid," he almost whispers. "Nothing we can't do, 's long as we're together."

He feels Mac holding on more tightly at that: "You and I," he confirms, almost inaudible. "Together."

Jack smiles: “Get some sleep, hoss,” he adds as an afterthought. “I'll be here.” _Keep you tethered_.

Mac's gaze rests on him until he can't keep his eyes open any longer, and his grip on Jack's hand only lessens when he finally dozes off.

Jack never lets go of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part concludes these, since they somehow turned into a Jack Dalton fix-it (in hindsight, it was inevitable) and season 4 on the whole is not exactly what I expected.  
> The unicorns refer to Mac's dream in S02e20 "Skyscraper – Power" while "Short Round" is borrowed from Indiana Jones, of course.
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> I'm not a Native Speaker, therefore I apologize for any mistakes!


End file.
